


#27

by Schweet



Series: What Would I Even Tell Her [27]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25432276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schweet/pseuds/Schweet
Series: What Would I Even Tell Her [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605673
Kudos: 1





	#27

Hello Elizabeth

I’m starting to realize I might be out of control

For example, here’s what I’ve done so far this year

_ January _ \- bought over 100 dollars worth of dried herbs and flowers so I could make my own tea blends (that's not counting the money I spent on all the glass jars to hold all those herbs and flowers in either)

_ February _ \- created a YouTube channel and planned out my first video to a T (the only thing that stopped me from filming it was quarantine because it meant having to explain myself to my family)

_ March _ \- tried teaching myself calligraphy (that lasted for about 2 weeks)

_ March 28th _ \- 37 hour binge of The Untamed (the only reason it wasn’t 39 was because my dad was reading us Harry Potter that night)

_ April and May _ \- began writing a book series, I have the first book planned out and have the first three chapters finished (included multiple nights of 8- 10 hour writing sprees)

_ June _ \- digital art and embroidery (I bought so many supplies and now what am I going to do with them all?)

_ June somthingth _ \- Drank so much of my parents’ alcohol that I threw up in the kitchen sink (I was drinking alone trying to chase something)

_ July _ \- worked on editing my poems into an anthology (I was convinced I could get them published)

_ July 6th _ \- was possessed by the spirit of Walt Whitman and wrote for 17 hours straight (began at 2 pm and wrote until the sun rose, took a shower, went to work, made an iced dirty chai, and scribbled on napkins for the next four hours because my phone was dead)

_ July 10th _ \- convinced myself all I would want to read during vacation were books on rape culture, the predatory nature of our society upon young girls, and mental health (I was right- for about three days until I got bored)

_ July 15th _ \- currently I am on a poetry binge (Started with Mary Oliver, didn’t like her, moved on to Emily Dickinson, a little better, now I’m on some dude who won the Pulitzer Prize, his are honestly the worst)

_ Today _ \- I edited multiple collages on Canva and now I’m writing again (at least I’m in control of the pen this time and not the fire in my brain)

I’ve never felt like this before

When I held razors against my skin

At least I felt like I had a choice

It may have been a horrible choice

But it was one that  _ I _ made

One that made me feel in control

This scares me

Those with bipolar are more likely to attempt suicide

And succeed

I promised so many people I would never be that bad again

And next year I’ll be alone

Even though I’m so excited to be on my own

To live my own life

I don’t want to be the crazy girl

I know how to deal with depression and anxiety

I know to fight those demons

I have beaten their stigma

But bipolar?

That's a label

And a life

I don’t think I’m ready for


End file.
